


What's Romantic

by Typey



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Jemma Simmons-centric, Multi, PWP, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7260457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typey/pseuds/Typey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma planned a getaway to the Seychelles. Fitz figured out a way to get their other half to their tropical paradise. The four of them made the most out of a vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [derevko (sunshine_queen)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshine_queen/gifts).



> [Madi](derevko.tumblr.com) and I like to spend our time contemplating a healthy, honest, and equal poly foursome for these spies and sci's. Equal in the sense that they're all completely into it; our headcanons do, however (and probably not at all surprisingly), focus mostly on Jemma with Bobbi.

Jemma shaded her eyes as she ducked through the open door and stepped onto the metal staircase, staring out at sparkling turquoise water and verdant peaks in all directions. The photos from the resort website hadn't come close to doing the view justice. She felt Fitz's hand sliding from the small of her back to rest lightly above her hip.

"Don't you think it's beautiful?" She sighed and leaned her head back toward Fitz, who kissed her temple and whispered, "I'm looking." He slipped the bag from her hand into his and they headed down to the tarmac.

She was caught at every moment by the trees and the bright-billed songbirds, the startling colors swirling in sea and sky. Heady floral aromas and the steady thrum of waves seemed to reach into her, slowing her heartbeat and the ever-present racing of her thoughts. Her pace slowed, too, and Fitz's matched hers, step for step. Jemma breathed deeply, but she resisted closing her eyes. 

Waiting inside the terminal to clear customs, Jemma reached for her bag. She noticed Fitz looking at her, staring really. 

"What?"

Fitz smiled and leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. She was going ask him again, but they were called to the desk agent.

Their ride to the resort showed off everything Jemma had been excited to share with Fitz. Well, not everything. 

She smiled a little to herself at that. Jemma turned to see if Fitz was enjoying the view as much as she was, and he was looking at her, at that little smile she hadn't thought he'd have noticed. He smiled back when he saw her furrow her brow, and he slipped his hand into hers, linking their fingers and squeezing gently. Even if she'd wanted to, Jemma wouldn't have been able to stop herself from pulling their hands up to her lips and kissing them. And then, even if she had been able to, she still wouldn't have wanted to stop herself from kissing him deeply.

Snogging in the back of a taxi, with the sound of the breeze whistling through palm leaves coming in through open windows, was just about perfect. Well, not really snogging. Fitz was still holding her hand, but his other one didn't drift toward her thigh or sneak under the hem of her top. His tongue slid along hers; she sucked his bottom lip; she moaned softly into his mouth. Jemma didn't shift closer to his lap, and she didn't slide her foot up the back of Fitz's calf. 

But the kissing, oh the kissing. 

Kissing that they continued the second they were in their villa. Jemma with her back against the door and Fitz holding her, with no impatience, with his hands at her hips. The bed was right there, but there was no urgency, Fitz wasn't guiding her anywhere, he wasn't leading her that way, pulling at their clothes. She wasn't either, and she wasn't thinking of the silk negligee in her suitcase, the one she'd bought for this trip and thought Fitz would like. 

She wasn't thinking of much of anything, to be honest, overpowered by the feel of Fitz's lips on hers, the heat radiating between their bodies, the lack of oxygen making her head spin.

Fitz pulled back just enough to look into Jemma's eyes, that same look she'd been seeing all day, since they got on to the plane, since they'd left for their first vacation together, since he'd found her booking their trip.

"What?"

"Beautiful."

"What?"

"You, Jemma, are beautiful. To me."

Jemma brought her hands up to cup Fitz's cheeks, letting her nails catch just a little on his stubble. Her eyes darted between each of his, and both sets were shining with love. 

She kissed him, long and soft, and then, breathing deeply, whispered, "Oh, Fitz. You're so romantic."


	2. Chapter 2

Jemma drifted somewhere between dreams — the one that looked a lot like a tropical paradise vacation with Fitz and their promises to each other, and the one that felt like Bobbi's breasts pressed up against her naked back and Hunter's calloused fingers on her hip.

Calloused fingers that were ghosting so lightly across her skin, too lightly to be a creation of her imagination, that they drew Jemma fully awake. Until she could be sure, though, Jemma wasn't going to risk breaking the spell. 

From somewhere in front of her, Jemma heard that quick huff of breath that always signaled Fitz's impatience, followed immediately by him addressing her not at all sleepily. "We know you're awake, Jemma. Now you're just milking it."

Inhaling deeply to curl her back closer into Bobbi's body — and moaning softly as Bobbi's arm tightened around her ribs in response — Jemma opened her eyes. Hunter looked exceptionally pleased with himself, with the entire situation, most likely; and the portion of Fitz's face, framed by tufting wild bedhead, she could see over Hunter's shoulder was, well, it was radiant. She reached forward across Hunter to find Fitz's hand and lace their fingers together.

Sliding her gaze back to Hunter, Jemma asked the first question that came to mind, "When did you get here?"

"About thirty minutes ago. I wanted to put bets on how long it'd take you to wake up once we'd got into bed, but," he flicked his hand from where it had still been drawing meaningless patterns on her hip to gesture at Bobbi, " _that_ one said it'd be 'tacky.'" Bobbi's hand left its spot, warm against Jemma's belly, to snatch Hunter's one-handed air quote and put those fingers back on Jemma.

Pausing a moment to relish the feeling of Bobbi's and Hunter's hands on her, Jemma licked her lips. And immediately Hunter's lips were on hers. It was a brief re-introduction and a sensual preview of the two pairs' full reunion.

When Hunter pulled away, slowly, sweetly, smiling, Jemma asked the next logical question, "How long can you stay?"

Fitz, who was wrapped tightly behind Hunter and whose right hand was pressing up against Hunter's sternum, answered in between soft kisses to the exposed shoulder in front of him. "I invited them to spend the week with us, until we have to leave."

In any other circumstance, Jemma would have been at least mildly irked that not only was her carefully planned schedule going to be disrupted but that she had been the target of a surprise over which she had no control. 

Not these circumstances, though. Not when it was Fitz having figured out how to get them Bobbi and Hunter in the middle of the Indian Ocean for a whole week. Not when Bobbi was palming one breast and Hunter was leaning in for another kiss, his gaze far more intense than it had been moments before. Not when she could feel Bobbi's breath at the back of her neck and hear the half-whispered "perfect" — Jemma shivered at the sound of Bobbi's voice so close, so deep.

The vibrations of Bobbi's answering chuckle seemed to ripple along Jemma's nerves and were amplified by the breathy moan Jemma sighed into Hunter's mouth. He gasped, and Jemma didn't know if it was because of her reaction to Bobbi or Hunter's own reaction to Fitz's hand sliding down taut muscles.

As Jemma and Hunter broke their kiss they each turned in search of the mouth behind them. Jemma lost sight of the boys as Fitz slid on top of Hunter and reached below the sheet at their waists. Jemma lost sight of everything as she closed her eyes at the first kiss from Bobbi. She didn't have to see to know how beautiful Bobbi was in the early morning sunlight, how beautiful Bobbi was leaning over her, how beautiful Bobbi always was.

But when Bobbi pulled back, Jemma had to look. Look at the halo of hair and sparkling blue eyes. The full, kiss-reddened lips and the flush rising improbably under golden skin. 

"Perfect."

And Bobbi's flush deepened into a pleased blush and her eyes darted away from Jemma's. Jemma would never call that look bashful — it was still Barbara Morse, after all — but there was definitely something _extra_ , something maybe even vulnerable in her reaction.

Jemma reached up to tuck stray hair behind Bobbi's ear and asked quietly, so as not to distract Hunter and Fitz, "you do know I think it's perfect that you're here, don't you?"

It seemed like it was taking all of Bobbi's considerable willpower to keep her eyes on Jemma's. She swallowed hard once before dipping her head closer to Jemma's, hardly even whispering the words as she spoke. "I thought when we left you'd...move on. It would have been easier for you to move on."

"Oh, Bobbi. It would have torn us apart to move on, because you two are part of our hearts." And Jemma took Bobbi's face in both her hands and pressed their lips together again. 

Bobbi's weight on top of her was perfect. The deep, unhurried kiss was perfect. Bobbi's strong hand hitching Jemma's knee up to make room for those long, tan legs was perfect. Rocking against each other in unison was perfect, each woman's moans and whispered nonsense overlapping with the other's and overlapping with the moans from the other half of the bed. Limbs touching and teasing between the four of them, hands searching, grasping, letting go and searching again. Kisses getting hungrier and sloppier. The cresting waves of ecstasy rolling between them, heightened moment after moment by each other's pleasure. 

Perfect.

The four of them lay there, arms and legs intertwined, hot, heavy breaths on sweat-slicked skin. Fingers traced along still-twitching muscles and tendons and tongues darted out, none of it to arouse again, not yet, but because there was someone to connect to. 

And before those small touches became kisses and purposeful strokes, which they inevitably would, Bobbi returned to Jemma's declaration. Catching the eyes of each of her companions in turn, she took a breath, closed her eyes, and uttered one of her own. "I love you."

Hunter saw tears shining in the eyes of both Jemma and Fitz and summed up the moment: "Now that was bloody romantic."


	3. Chapter 3

Jemma and Fitz had spent three days on Denis Island before Bobbi and Hunter joined them. She wasn't surprised at all that most of the previous eighty-four hours or so had been spent in bed, re-learning how to relax as well as re-learning each other's bodies, but Jemma was glad the four of them had opted that morning to get up and dressed to go outside.

Well, _dressed_ was probably overstating the matter, and _outside_ was only just accurate. The boys had headed through the now flung-wide French doors to their private semi-shaded pool and were wearing sunglasses and board shorts, Fitz's surprisingly in a tropical floral pattern and Hunter's even more surprisingly in a staid, classic navy. Jemma watched them banter as they jockeyed for prime real estate on the patio. She was tying the halter of her bikini when Bobbi, who had snuck up, rested her hands on Jemma's hips.

Jemma hummed at the touch and bent her head forward in an open invitation for Bobbi to finish dressing her. A task Bobbi seemed wholly uninterested in completing — she was holding Jemma's hands in place along with the nylon strings and was kissing her knuckles and wrists and neck and ears, but was making no move to comply with Jemma's unspoken request.

Jemma laughed lightly at Bobbi's unsubtle tactic. "Are you going to do me up?" 

"Nope." Bobbi lifted her head to look onto the patio and called out to the boys. "Hey, don't you think she'd look even better," Bobbi paused and Jemma knew what was coming and yet could do nothing to stop it, "without _this_?" 

Bobbi didn't actually pull the bikini top off, but the strings loosened enough for the fabric to drape low — and for Jemma to squeak in alarm.

She knew she couldn't get her hands down in time to cover up; she knew, the calculations having been done in the back of her mind, that even if she dropped her hands to grab for the fabric that the lack of tension (literal tension, not the sensual variation that was deepening by the second) would only make it worse; she knew she wasn't strong enough to keep Bobbi from pulling the whole top off anyway; she knew she loved being naked in front of her partners.

Jemma knew all of that and yet she squeaked.

And Bobbi chuckled, Fitz grinned and Hunter winked. So Jemma huffed out a breath sulkily and came very, very close to stomping her foot. Which was obvious and which of course only made Bobbi laugh harder. And cover Jemma's breasts with her strong, capable hands. At that firm, and calming touch, Jemma leaned back to rest against Bobbi — and discovered that her girlfriend was topless.

Turning around to face Bobbi, Jemma saw that a too-small towel knotted low on Bobbi's hips like a sarong was the only thing covering the body in front of her. Jemma acknowledged, in whatever remained functional in the logic center of her brain, that it was more than she herself was wearing, especially since the bikini top hung forgotten tied around her ribs, but the frankly Amazonian pose and one thigh exposed and the...the _smug_ look on Bobbi's face? It was _hot_.

Jemma smiled, certain she was showing Bobbi both the desire and the amusement that she felt. "So, was this Plan B for keeping me half-naked?"

"More than half. Way more than half." Bobbi's tongue darted out quickly to lick her lower lip. "And Plan B was, 'Oh, babe! I need to make sure you've got enough sunblock on!' _This_ ," she gestured at herself, "is just me."

Jemma had started laughing at the simpering, "Oh, babe!" and was still laughing as she tilted her head up to find Bobbi's lips. As they kissed, Bobbi's left hand snaked around Jemma's side to reach for the one string keeping the flimsy upper half of the bikini on Jemma's body. Bobbi made quick work of the knot, though Jemma didn't have many thoughts to spare for the dexterity. Not when Bobbi's right hand had slid under Jemma's ass to lift her, holding her tight to Bobbi's body with just enough room for Jemma to wrap her legs around the waist in front of her.

Bobbi kept that strong hold, her left hand pressing across the span of Jemma's back, as they maintained their kiss and Bobbi walked them slowly out to the patio, where Fitz and Hunter had stopped their bickering. 

Though Jemma didn't have _any_ thoughts to spare to notice the absence of noise from their other partners.

The only sounds she registered were the rushing of her blood, the thudding of her heart and the near-growls coming from Bobbi as the kiss deepened. 

Jemma didn't register the change in lighting, though both Fitz and Hunter watched as she arched slightly in response to the sunlight on her bare back, rolling her hips forward into Bobbi's body.

Jemma didn't register the slight breeze passing across the paved expanse encircled by the palm trees, but Bobbi responded to the reflexive shiver racing across heated skin. 

Jemma, ankles crossed behind Bobbi's thighs, didn't register the shift in their position until their kiss broke and her shoulders touched down onto a chaise longue. She hadn't remembered the chairs having been covered earlier, but any question that was still forming in her oxygen-starved, kiss-hungry mind was answered by Fitz's voice low in her ear letting her know that he'd put something down so she'd be comfortable.

She opened her eyes slowly, glad of Bobbi blocking the light filtering down between palm fronds — and glad of Bobbi's radiant, flushed face so close to hers. Jemma lifted her head just enough to kiss Bobbi's chin, the side of her mouth, the tip of her nose. To capture Bobbi's lower lip in the start of what was certain to have become another searing kiss. 

Bobbi's arms pushed up, gently but insistently, though, until she was standing. Jemma might have heard herself whimper. She definitely tried to follow Bobbi's ascent. 

"Mean."

Bobbi laughed at what Jemma was pretty sure was a fully developed pout. "We don't need Plan B, but you really do need sunblock if we're going to be out here and you're going to be topless."

Jemma half-closed her eyes again and used every ounce of focus she had to attempt a seductive eyelash bat. "So why don't _you_ go ahead and help me out with that _need_."

She must have failed with the bedroom eyes, because, as much desire as there was in Bobbi's gaze, there was humor, too. 

Looking at Hunter, who, like Fitz, had at some point moved to Jemma's side, Bobbi raised one artfully sculpted eyebrow. Jemma could see, from the shifting shadow next to her, that Hunter had nodded his assent to whatever the question had been. 

"Budge up, Jemma." Not necessarily pleased with having Bobbi out of arm's reach, Jemma complied slowly with Hunter's request. But she did sit up and she did scoot forward so he could sit behind her with his feet planted on either side of the chaise. 

The snap of the sunblock bottle's cap was loud amid the haze Jemma was still hanging onto after having been hanging onto Bobbi. But Hunter warned her before drizzling the cool lotion onto her. She closed her eyes and bent her head forward again, as she had inside with Bobbi. This time, though, the hands were moving, massaging shoulders and arms, along the ridges of her shoulder blades, at the small of her back, curling around her hips, up either side of her spine, pressing up her neck to her hairline. 

It was over far sooner than Jemma would have wanted, Hunter having been gentle but disciplined — he hadn't teased the sides of her breasts or reached forward to stroke the spot at her throat that made her moan, he hadn't let his hands drift in front of her to dance across her belly or sweep down her thighs. Hunter pressed a quick kiss to the back of her neck as he stood. 

Relaxed and warm and focused only on having more skin-on-skin contact, Jemma looked up and found Fitz's eyes. He stepped forward purposefully and nodded once some comment by Bobbi that Jemma couldn't quite hear. 

Fitz sat in front of Jemma, drawing her legs up to rest her ankles on his thighs. He took the bottle of sunblock from Hunter and laid a stripe of white lotion on each shin. He covered every inch of her lower legs with his sure hands, taking care to attend to the tops of her feet and the backs of her calves with equal attention. He painted each thigh with another line and slowly, firmly ran his palms up and down them until Jemma was flexing against him, opening up her hips just enough to let her partners know where she was desperate for touch. 

Instead of satisfying her request — her demand — Fitz hooked Jemma's knees higher around his waist and leaned forward. Holding himself up above her, he kissed her sweetly before pulling away. His hands, coated in sunblock (Bobbi's planning? Hunter's help? Jemma didn't care.) gripped her waist and then, wonderfully, started sliding in circles from the top of the bikini bottoms over her ribs around her navel and up between her breasts. Over and over until Jemma was following the pattern and the rhythm with her hips, not quite getting the leverage she wanted against Fitz’s body.

She opened her eyes to ask Fitz with a gaze she was sure would be more coherent than any words she could have mustered to press into her, to move with her, to be inside her. And the first thing she saw was Fitz, biting hard into his own lower lip, desperate to keep himself from giving in to what he knew she wanted. 

The second thing she saw was Hunter sucking and nipping and licking at Bobbi's throat, one hand gripping her ass hard the other palming her left breast. Bobbi was staring directly at Jemma, mouth half-open, skin flushed a deep red from her chest to her cheeks. 

She winked at Jemma and put her hands on Hunter's shoulders. He stopped immediately, though he objected with a not-so-quiet whine, while Bobbi gathered her voice. "All right, Fitz. I think she's covered." 

Fitz let his desire-heavy gaze linger for a moment, but he stood up and stepped back from Jemma, who was left dizzy and wanting and wet and alone. 

She could feel her brow furrow. She could feel her mind start spinning with possible explanations for this...this _tease_. 

" _That_ is not what I had in mind." 

That damnable eyebrow raised again and Bobbi smirked, "Oh, yeah? And what _exactly_ did you have in mind?" 


	4. Chapter 4

_Bobbi smirked, "Oh, yeah? And what exactly did you have in mind?"_

Jemma's heart, still racing from Fitz's ministrations, thudded hard at Bobbi's question. Knowing that the timbre of Bobbi's voice only aroused her even more than she already had been, Jemma blushed so hard she had to look away from her partners, who were still standing — looming, really — at the foot of her chair. 

Hunter dropped to the towel-covered lounger and reached out to take one of her hands gently, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles until she turned her head back toward him. "Bob's being _Bob_ about it, but we really do want to hear about what you want."

"I...I just want _you_ three."

"Come on, Jemma." Fitz's tone fell somewhere between pleading and scoffing.

"What, you're just going to go along with dirty talk?" Neither of them were prudes, but Jemma was more than mildly surprised at him, trying to think of a single instance in the previous decade that he'd shown any sort of inclination toward this level of salaciousness.

"Well, _yes_." Fitz looked around at the four of them and gestured at their mostly naked bodies. "I think that's right on topic."

Bobbi took Fitz's right hand and interlaced their fingers as she led them closer to where Jemma and Hunter sat. "Do you want to know what I had in mind for today? What Fitz did? And Hunter?"

Taking a deep breath, Jemma leaned into Hunter's chest and he wrapped his arm around her. She looked at Bobbi solemnly. "Yes." And Jemma really, really meant it. "But first I need to finish actually applying a full coat of suncream." 

She didn't even mind that they laughed at her interlude of practicality, and Jemma smiled a little less shyly than she had been feeling and decided to show off a bit.

Leaning back a bit from Hunter, she used her right hand to massage the sunblock down her nose and over each cheek and back up across her forehead. She dabbed more onto each ear with a careful finger along the ridges and curves. Having swept up her hair with her left hand and closed her eyes, Jemma made sure to get the back of her neck even though Hunter really had taken care of that a few minutes earlier — she couldn't see them, but Jemma was certain Hunter, Bobbi and Fitz were watching, and, since both of her arms were raised and she was still topless, she was fairly certain she knew where they were looking. But once she was done with her neck, Jemma moved to coat her forearms and then her biceps and shoulders. 

Fitz had made her writhe and driven her right to the edge with his rhythmic sweeps of hands across her belly, ribs and sides, but though he'd dragged a hand up and down her sternum, he'd avoided her breasts.

She certainly wasn't going to.

The sunblock squeezed onto her palm was cool after sun- and touch-warmed minutes — in contrast to the heat rushing through her blood all along her body increasingly desperate for more — and Jemma took her time transferring it to the fingers of each hand. Then, looking directly at Fitz, Jemma cupped the underside of each of her breasts and slid her hands up slowly. Pushing her breasts together and holding them for just a moment, Jemma bit her lower lip and then dragged her hands up, over her nipples to draw her palms across the planes of her upper chest. Starting again with her throat, being sure to go slowly down the sides of it where she knew Bobbi most liked to nip and suck while they were making love, Jemma — who at some point, she realized, had closed her eyes while imagining what she must be doing to Bobbi and the boys — pulled her hands back down to the tops of her breasts. She circled them once, twice, three times before dropping her left hand to the towel behind Hunter and letting her right hand drift lazily past her navel to her lap.

Though most of her performance had been about heightening her partners' desire, Jemma had also used the opportunity offered by the break to gather herself a little under such scrutiny from her three eager partners, to process what they were asking of her. And, really, there wasn't anything they would ask of her she wouldn't give. So, raising her eyebrows, she lifted her gaze to meet Bobbi's. "All right."

Bobbi, whose desire shone bright and as deep as the heaving breaths she was taking, grinned. 

"Well, since you've obviously gotten yourself in quite the mood, how about you start."

"I do mean it that I just want the three of you for as long as I can have you together, but since your _challenge_ ," Jemma furrowed her brows again remembering the unfairly lilting post-tease question initially posed to her, "was what I had in mind while Hunter and Fitz took turns touching me everywhere but where I'd find any real release,” Jemma tried not to think about how her partners probably found her scowl adorable, “...what I had in mind was being made to come by each of you, one after the other."

Jemma felt Hunter's thigh clench under her hand, and she was pretty sure that the only thing keeping Fitz from scrambling over to press her down onto the chaise was Bobbi's hold on him.

"When Fitz was with me and I saw Hunter kissing you, I could picture what it would look like if you had lost some of your control no matter how hard you were trying to keep it. If, while Fitz kissed me hard and lowered himself on top of me, I could see you thrusting against Hunter's thigh, rocking against him."

Hunter's leg fell outward at that, leaning more against Jemma than he had been before. He was panting — they all were.

"I thought Fitz was going to dip his hand under my bikini. I was already so wet, I don't know how he didn't notice."

The whispered, "Oh, I noticed," from Fitz didn't break the spell for any of them, though Jemma could see his and Bobbi's interlaced fingers were white with tension. 

"I wanted to feel Fitz inside me, and I wanted you and Hunter to stay where you were, you getting off on being able to see Fitz driving his fingers into me until I came." Jemma was having a hard time keeping her right hand still — not touching Hunter, who was practically quivering next to her, and not touching herself, which she desperately, desperately wanted to do. 

"I imagined just about catching my breath before Hunter picked me up and carried me to the bed, where he would strip off my bikini and spread my legs. I'd be able to see you and Fitz on the loveseat, and Hunter would pull me forward to make sure you had a good view."

Any other time, Jemma would have smiled fondly at the puppy-like nodding from Hunter, who obviously could picture taking her under the knees and dragging her closer to him on a bed.

"In that situation, he'd want to go as slowly as possible, knowing I'd already come once. He'd want to build the heat, he'd want me hot and wet and out of my mind. And the first touches of his fingers sweeping through me would be light. They wouldn't get more direct, more purposeful, until he was certain the two of you were fully engaged with each other. Bobbi's hand slow and steady and strong; Fitz's mouth on Bobbi's body where it couldn't be on mine."

Fitz was flushed completely red, and he looked to be aching at not being able to act out any of what Jemma was describing.

"And then Hunter would fill me up with his fingers, and my hips would be rising up to meet them. I'd call out Bobbi's and Fitz's names to make sure you knew I was coming for you as well as Hunter."

Someone groaned, it might have been Hunter, it might have been Jemma herself.

"I'd open my eyes to Bobbi hovering over me, Fitz taking care of Hunter next to us before they'd cuddle up to watch. Because, who wouldn't want to watch Bobbi dipping into all the wetness and then dragging her slick fingers in patterns across my thighs, my belly, my breasts, over and over again. Each time following up a touch of her fingers with a hot, wet sweep of her tongue. Tasting me on me, then kissing me tasting of me."

That moan was definitely Bobbi, and it almost made Jemma decide to chuck the fantasy and do something with the actual bodies in front of her. But only almost.

Closing her eyes, Jemma continued. "Bobbi would get her right arm under my shoulders and pull me upright to straddle her, hips to hips and breasts to breasts, kissing me hard while she slid her left hand between our bodies. And she'd press me close to her with one arm and drive into me with the fingers on the other hand. And I'd ride her fingers while she thrusted up into the back of her own wrist. And the pressure and rhythm and wetness between us would make us come, our faces buried against each other's throats and our heaving bodies collapsing down onto the mattress to be gathered in by Fitz and Hunter."

The only sound she heard was the counterpoints of four sets of heaving lungs. The desire among them was so palpable the very air throbbed with it. 

Jemma forced her eyes open and also forced out, as calmly as she could, her question to them. "So, is that about what you were thinking of for today?" 

Somehow Bobbi's expression slipped from wanton desire straight to smirking amusement, "I dunno, I thought it would be really romantic to read love poems under the starlight."

Then Hunter cleared his throat and chimed in with, "I thought I'd cook us one of my specialties...even asked the resort for fancy lamps to add to the mood."

And, as Jemma's mortification crescendoed, Fitz, that traitor, somehow found a way to affect nonchalance. "I was looking forward to that snorkeling you planned."

But, before the abject humiliation could settle in for all eternity, Bobbi rescued her — she leaned in and kissed Jemma sweetly, reverting back to the timbre that had got this all started in the first place and promising, "but I think we can start with what you wanted."


	5. Epilogue

The unmarked helicopter touched down and its blades sliced through the air. Jemma leaned into the buffeting wind, blaming it for the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Bobbi stepped up to her and placed a soft but insistent hand under her chin. When their eyes met, Bobbi’s mouth turned up slightly. Jemma frowned, irritated that Bobbi could smile when they were about to be separated — again — for...well, for who knew how long. 

Bringing their foreheads together, to be comforting as well as to be heard over the chopper, Bobbi tried to soothe Jemma. “I know it sucks, but please don’t be sad.”

Jemma pulled back incredulous at her partner. “Why not?”

“You think that between the four of us we can’t figure out more,” Bobbi paused, dragging out the next word, “trysts?”

Tears momentarily forgotten, Jemma stared hungrily at Bobbi’s lips. They kissed. Not nearly as deeply as either of them would have liked, but the wind was battering them and Hunter was already on board and in his flight helmet. Fitz was ducking away from the open helicopter door and heading toward them.

“It’s just been so perfect.” Jemma’s tears were rising again.

“It has been.” Bobbi kissed Jemma again, left arm supporting her low into a dip and right hand sliding up Jemma’s thigh to just under the hem of her sundress, holding it there, skin against skin. Too soon, Bobbi righted them — Jemma flushed and completely breathless — and smirked. “That’ll just have to last until the next time.”

Fitz came up behind them and Bobbi turned, took his hand in hers and gave him a quick, bruising kiss goodbye. As she turned away and jogged to take Hunter’s outstretched hand for balance on her leap into their ride, Fitz slipped his arm around Jemma’s waist and said, in a voice full of the same awe that still had Jemma half-stunned, “well, _that_ was romantic.”


End file.
